


For A Start

by Cascaper



Series: Keeping Composure [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/M, Self-Indulgent, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 07:03:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13141518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cascaper/pseuds/Cascaper
Summary: In which Making an Appearance and Mingling to Advantage leads to something entirely new.





	For A Start

**Author's Note:**

> Vague allusion to events of 4.1, but otherwise mild spoiler-free.

_Why did it have to be a gown,_ the Warrior groaned inwardly, not for the first time that day.  


Admittedly, tonight was to be the first real ball held in the Royal Palace since Ala Mhigo’s liberation, to celebrate the nation’s reemergence as a player on the international stage. [Name] and three of her fellow Scions were, therefore, attending in order to Make an Appearance and Mingle to Advantage- officially. In reality they were standing by as an additional line of defense in case anyone got any bright ideas involving crystals, again. But a ball is a ball, and that meant “cleaning up nicely-” so Tataru insisted, at any rate.  


Privately, [name] suspected the Lalafell-of-several-trades had just been looking for an excuse to deck as many of them as possible out in the latest Hingan styles. The garments’ elegance could not be denied- just look at ~~Alphinaud~~ the Leveilleurs, gliding about as though they’d never worn anything else- but as for function... _Couldn't I have gotten the kind with pants?_  


“Oh, don’t look so funereal,” Alisaie said brightly, breaking the Warrior’s uneasy silence. “People will think we're awaiting an attack.”  


“Suppose one occurs,” [name] returned. “I’ll be the last to be of any use. How can I move in this- this-” She took a double handful of skirt and flapped it about, disconsolate. “This _tent_?”  


“Why, you can move like a swan,” Thancred joked. “Ready to wreak all seven hells’ worth of havoc at the first sign of trouble.” At that, the [race] could not help laughing as their little group approached the doors, feeling a bit better despite the odd sensation of so much fabric crowding her legs. In moments they had announced their names, been checked off the guest list and waved inside.  


The sounds of so many people chattering and laughing, combined with the strains of the band, created a rather overwhelming effect as the four of them descended into the ballroom. Long banquet tables lined two walls, covered in food and drinks to be sampled as one pleased. This arrangement seemed rather dangerously laissez-faire, to [Name]’s wary eye.  


_What am I doing here. Really. Pretending I'm going to have a, what, a good time? No indeed, I'm to be naught but an ornament with eyes, unless..._ She was brought out of her thoughts by Alphinaud's voice, saying her name. Looking about, she realized with a start that the other two had vanished somewhere into the crowd.“Where are Thancred and Alisaie?”  


Alphinaud's bangs fluttered in the wake of his sigh. “Oh, give my sister an ilm and she'll take a malm. Or five. Nothing would do but she must scout the whole room. 'We ought to split up,' she kept saying, 'it really would increase our coverage, and we've got our linkpearls, haven't we?' But it seemed less than wise to let her go haring off entirely by herself, so Thancred has gone along with her.”  


Which left [name] and Alphinaud... alone. Oh. Oh my. Well if there was going to be a cherry on the Warrior-not-relaxing cake, this was surely it.  


“You look troubled still,” he observed. “What is it, my friend? Are you-” He paused. “Are you thinking of the past again?”  


[Name] fiddled with a ribbon on her bodice. “It’s hard not to at the best of times, let alone on a night like this.”  


When she looked up, she saw her friend's face similarly grave with recollection. “Do not worry,” Alphinaud said softly. “I shall be right here beside you.”

***

A few bells or so later, [Name]'s nerves were starting to settle. It seemed as if this was not going to be a night of battle, but merely- well, revelry. The food had turned out to be rather tasty, and a cleverly hidden flask secreted beneath the top layer of Tataru's gown meant that the Warrior had been able to satisfy herself as to the safety of her drinks. They had touched base with Thancred and Alisaie a few times, confirming that all was well with them too, and done a fair job of Mingling as per the plan. (Mostly this consisted of nodding and smiling while Alphinaud did the talking, always a sound strategy.) She was even starting to get used to the way it felt walking around in a constant rustle of silks.  


Yes, all in all one could say [Name] was almost her normal self, except for her hyper-awareness of the young man at her side. Truly, it was a gift from the Twelve that he didn’t know what his mere presence did to her, had been doing for far too long. Nor would he, if she could only continue to keep her composure.  


They were standing back a little way from the room at large, now, watching as other guests whirled about the floor. The band had not so much as paused for breath, it seemed, or maybe that was just the Warrior’s imagination- as might be the way that the dancers looked as though they barely touched ground. “So beautiful...” she said, not realizing she had spoken aloud until a small chuckle from her right broke her reverie.  


“We could join them, you know,” her companion suggested.  


“Oh, I- I couldn't,” [name] protested. Seeing his surprise, she added, “I can't, um. I can't dance.”  


“But my friend,” said Alphinaud in puzzlement, “have I not seen you passing time in jigs and so on?”  


“No. No, you have not.” Heat flooded [Name]'s cheeks. _When? How? Who told you?!_ she wanted to say, but refrained. “Even if you had, that isn't the same as dancing with a partner.”  


“True.” There was a pause. “I could teach you, if you like,” he offered. “Look, there is a spot just there-” pointing to the space between one of the room's great lion statues and the wall- “where we can still see, yet not be seen. No one would take any notice until you were ready.” Another pause. “O-only if you cared to, of course. It was but a thought.”  


_Deep breaths, [Name]. Deep breaths._ “No, I care to.” The two of them duly retreated behind the lion, with the Warrior's heart already doing a sort of quickstep of its own as Alphinaud came to a stop and turned to face her.  


The dance he taught seemed hardly, at first, to resemble the swirling of the couples on the floor, but all that would come in time. First there was the bow: the left fist rising to the chest, right fist moving behind the back, as one bent forward. So far, so good. This was followed by the raising of one's hands out a fulm or so before one. Alphinaud did this with upturned palms, but when [Name] made to imitate him, he stopped her. “No, the hands- er. Your hands don't turn up, you put them- ah- in mine. Facing downward.”  


[Name] did as bid, hoping he would not notice how her fingers trembled. “And then?”  


With joined hands, they began a series of steps- out to the right, back in; out to the left, back in; step apart, back in; step forward and bring the hands straight up overhead, then around and down in an arc as they moved back to where they had begun. This, Alphinaud explained, was the whole dance in its basic form, but it could be done while maneuvering in a small circle as well.  


“Hold, hold,” the Warrior interrupted. “Can we just do that again from the beginning?”  


“Certainly.” So they did, over and over, gradually faster with each repetition until- “There, my friend,” Alphinaud panted, “you're dancing.”  


“So I am.” [Name]'s nerves were entirely gone now; she felt nothing but delight as she leapt and turned together with her best friend in the realm. She was honestly keeping up now, rolling with whatever her new tutor saw fit to introduce. Look, here came a twirl, one pair of hands letting go so that the other could rise high and guide her into the spin; she turned once, twice, laughing all the while. Thrice, and she might even have managed a fourth rotation had her toe not caught in the layers of her gown.  


For a split second, [Name] was toppling off-balance, but just as quickly she found herself still again. Alphinaud had somehow caught her deftly in the very arm that had been controlling her twirl, and he used the other to steady her now, leaving her freed hands with nowhere to go but his shoulders. “Good heavens,” he gasped, still half laughing. “I am sorry, my friend, I did not mean...” But the words faded away as he seemed suddenly to realize how close they were.  


[Name] scarcely dared to move, Alphinaud's face filling her vision. His cheeks were flushed from dancing. His hair clung gently to his forehead. His lips were still parted, and his eyes- gods, his eyes- they tugged at a spot in her chest, somewhere just behind her sternum, ringing through her like the tone of a bell long neglected. She could feel her heart beating right in the base of her throat as she gazed up at him.  


It was impossible to say, afterwards, which of them began the kiss.  


A kind of electric current along [Name]'s limbs roared to life, sending goosebumps rushing right out to the tips of her ears and toes. Her foot slipped free of its catch as Alphinaud gathered her to him, as she slid her arms up around his neck; she cupped the back of his head with one hand just as she'd done too many times in her dreams, and it was unreal- it was too real- he was so warm, so solid, against her and mercy, she could have died happy right there on the spot.  


Eventually, dazed, the Warrior opened her eyes; she was faintly surprised to find herself not clutching a pillow. She must look ill, she thought, for Alphinaud was helping her to stand properly and asking “Are you all right? Here, let us sit down,” and next thing she knew they were on a bench she hadn't noticed before.  


“I will be fine,” [Name] reassured him, “just so long as you can do one thing for me.” At his nod, she went on: “Pinch me.” She offered a wrist for the purpose. “I'm just not certain I'm awake, you see.”  


Alphinaud blinked. “Very well.” Instead of pinching her, though, he took hold of her hand gently and raised the back of it to his lips, ghosting a kiss over the spot- and then, before she could point out that this was not what she had asked, he actually nipped at her wrist with his teeth. “Will that do?” he asked, a little smile curling across his face.  


[Name] could do nothing but smile back at him. “Yes... for a start.”

**Author's Note:**

> It's 3 am on Christmas and I'm making this very first post. Woot!


End file.
